


I Was Meant to Save You

by littlemissy106



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Dubious Consent, Fire, Firefighters, Homophobia, M/M, Paramedic!Louis, Rape/Non-con Elements, but not graphic, emt, nothing too mentally scarring, paramedics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissy106/pseuds/littlemissy106
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was used to it. It was a decision that he had made. He had given up on being happy a long time ago. At least Darren fed him and gave him a place to live, after all that’s all he really needed right?</p>
<p>At least that’s what he thought until a freak fire put him face to face with somebody from his past.</p>
<p>Or: the one where Louis and Harry were childhood friends until Harry ran away, years later Louis is the paramedic who treats Harry after his apartment building catches fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fire that Started it All

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so the first chapter of this had been up on my tumblr for months, and I just posted the second chapter so I figured I'd post it AO3 as well.

Harry shifted nervously from his position near the stove in the kitchen as he heard the sound of the front door slamming shut followed by the clatter of keys hitting the entryway table and shoes stomping towards him.

He kept his gaze firmly on the pot of spaghetti that he was stirring as he felt his boyfriend, Darren, stop in the doorway.

“Dinner ready?” Darren asked, staring at Harry with his eyes narrowed.

Harry licked his lips nervously and leaned away from his blonde-haired boyfriend before answering. “It needs another 10 minutes. I’m sorry I had to go and get groceries and the first store I went to didn’t have-“

“Shut up. I don’t care what your excuse is. I feed you, I give you a house, even buy you clothes and you can’t have the decency to have dinner ready for me? You are such a lazy whore, you’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the street.”

Harry clenched his jaw and blinked back tears at the words being throw at him. A muffled gasp shot from his mouth as he felt himself being slammed against the countertop. Rough hands scrambled at the button on his jeans and hot, wet breath blew across his neck.

“Think you owe me something.”

Harry jerked against his boyfriend’s hands, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Darren wait. Dinner – dinner first,” he gasped out, flinching as Darren’s hands tightened hard enough to leave bruises on his hips.

Darren growled in response, reaching over and throwing the pot of pasta into the sink. “Probably tasted like shit anyways,” he snarled, his brown eyes sparkling darkly, before yanking Harry’s pants down and leaving them pooled around the younger boys ankles. 

Harry sobbed and clenched his eyes shut trying to ignore physical and emotional pain the trickled through his tired body.

\-----------------------------

Harry lay huddled on the linoleum floor of the kitchen, shivering against the cold and trying to stop the slide of tears down his cheeks.

He distantly heard the slam of the door as Darren left to go get drunk with some of his buddies. He slowly levered himself off of the ground, wincing at the ache in his back and the sting of the bruises that were just forming along his neck and wrists. He grabbed onto the counter and used it to steady himself as the room spun around him for several seconds.  
Finally his vision cleared. He glanced forlornly at the mass of soggy noodles in the sink that was to have been his dinner. Instead he turned away with a sigh and gave up the thought of dinner in exchange for a hot bath in the hopes that it would ease some of the pain humming underneath his skin.

\-----------------------------------

Harry coughed and blinked, wrinkling his nose at the sharp stench that permeated the air in the bedroom. He blearily opened his eyes and lifted his head from the bed where he lay alone. He assumed that only a couple of hours had passed since he had fallen asleep, since Darren had yet to come back home. He stiffened as his mind finally registered that the thick smell was acrid, oily smoke that was trickling in through the open door and floating in clouds above his head.

With a startled cry he scrambled to his feet, staggering out of the room. He clattered through the rest of the apartment trying to find the source of smoke. Once he realized that the fire was not in the apartment he assumed that some other part of the apartment complex was on fire. He headed for the door, deciding that it would probably be best to leave before the walls burst into flames. 

He coughed raggedly and pulled his thin t shirt up over his nose and mouth in the hopes of filtering out some of the smoke. His head swam slightly as he staggered out of the apartment and into the hallway that was filled with smoke so thick that he could barely see three feet in front of him. 

He was just about to head towards the stairs when he heard a faint cry coming from one of the apartments farther to his right. He recognized that voice, and the apartment it was coming from. It was old Mrs. Obryant, or Brandy as she had insisted on him calling her. He looked forlornly towards the exit before sighing and heading back towards the voice that was crying out. Mrs. Obryant had been one of the only friends he’d had in the past couple of months, and her warm cups of tea and slices of blueberry pie had been the only thing keeping him going on some of his worst days.

He stumbled back through the hallway and came to the stop at a faded green door with faint gold lettering proclaiming “223” etched across the front. He pounded harshly on the door and called out loudly, praying that Brandy would be able to open the door for him. 

After several seconds with no response he gave up and instead called out, “Brandy if you can hear me stand back from the door,” before launching himself shoulder first into the door.  
Pain splintered through the joint at the contact and he cursed all of the movie characters and fake cops that had made it look so easy. Months of ignoring pain let him easily brush aside the sensation and he backed up and hit the door again, repeating the process several more times before the door finally gave in with a violent crack and shudder.  
He scrambled through the opening and was immediately greeted by pitch black darkness. “Brandy?” he called out desperately as he fought to search through the rooms, smoke cluttering his mouth and coating his throat.

Finally he stumbled on the prone figure of the elderly lady. She was sprawled out on her bedroom floor and it was evident that she had fallen trying to get out of her bed quickly.  
Harry’s heart thudded sharply as he leaned down and tried to find her pulse. His fingers pressed gently on her throat and his heart leapt in relief at the faint thrumming his fingers encountered. 

“Brandy, can you hear me?” He called softly, shaking her shoulder softly.

When he failed to get a response he sighed, immediately coughing at the burning smoke that infiltrated his lungs, before reaching down and gently gathering the elderly lady up in his arms. She was tiny, a good 12 inches shorter then Harry, but the action of breaking down the door, the rough night, and the stress of the past couple of month had worn Harry down so that he could barely hold her 110 pound frame. 

He huffed (again regretting the action that let more smoke into his lungs) and slowly straightened, striding as quickly as he could through the apartment, out the shattered door, and down the hallway with the elderly lady cradled as carefully as possible in his trembling arms. 

By the time that he made it to the top of the stairs his vision was starting to spot alarmingly. He coughed raggedly into the shoulder of his shirt, wincing at the thick, black, sticky goo that splattered onto white shirt , Darren was going to kill him for ruining a new shirt.

He started down the stairs, toes snagging on the creaky wood, and leaning on the railing after every couple of steps. 

When he finally reached the bottom step he stumbled, landing painfully on his knees. He blinked against the black wafting through his vision, desperately struggling to get oxygen into his lungs. Slowly he struggled back to his feet, fighting off the lure of a nice long nap. 

Each step towards the door to the outside seemed to take more energy and his feet felt like they were weighed down by anchors.

He made it halfway through the lobby before the front crashed open and a thick black boot stuck itself into the room. Harry watched in a daze as several firefighters clambered through the door. He blinked stupidly as they approached him. He struggled to see through their thick masks before Brandy was being taken from his arms. He swayed at the sudden weight change and would have fallen to his knees were it not for the strong arm of a firefighter which wrapped itself under his arms and took most of his weight.

The firefighter lead him out of the building. As soon as he stepped out of the building his senses were assaulted with a tumble of flashing lights, screaming, and a chaotic swirl of bodies swarming across the front lawn of the building.

His eyes rolled wildly trying to make sense of the madness while his lungs gasped frantically at the night air which was still tainted with curls of smoke that wafted from the building. His legs started to crumple underneath him. 

\---------------------

It felt like somebody had pressed fast forward because the next thing he knew he was being set down on something soft and a startled voice cried out, “Harry!”  
That voice was so familiar. He struggled to drag a face that matched the voice out of his memories while he felt his head being lifted gently and a plastic mask was settled across his nose and mouth.

His eyes fluttered open weakly and were immediately transfixed by a pair of deep blue eyes that he couldn’t forget even if he tried. Louis.


	2. Ghost from the Past

Harry dragged his feet through the woodchips as the swing swung back and forth, creating deep furrows in the ground below him.

He looked up at the sound of excited barking came from in front of him. 

The next thing he knew he was flat on his back with a wet pink tongue and cold black nose exploring his face. He squealed and squirmed under the weight of the dog, but the dog outweighed his tiny six year old body.

Just as Harry was accepting that he was destined to be suffocated at the paws of a furry monster a worried voice rang through air, calling out a startled, “Archie!”, and the dog’s weight suddenly left Harry’s chest. 

For a moment Harry looked up through his curls that had fallen across his eyes and stared at a cloudless blue sky, before a face suddenly loomed over him.

Harry stared up at the small, tan face of a boy only a year or two older them him. Auburn hair was mussed into crazy spikes and the boy’s crystal blue eyes crinkled in worry as he sputtered out a frantic apology.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. Mom told me not to let Archie off of his leash but he was being so good and I just wanted to play chase with him. He doesn’t normally do that to people. 

Are you okay? I can call my mom if you need help – “

“I’m fine,” Harry quickly interrupted the boy, blushing hotly as he scrambled to his feet and held out his hand awkwardly. “I’m Harry.”

The boy looked at Harry for a moment, glancing at the younger boy’s open face and then down at his hand.

Just as Harry was about to lower his hand and run away the older boy stepped forward and pulled the startled younger boy into a tight hug. 

“I’m Louis and we’re gonna be best friends.”

The scene suddenly changed with a swirl of color, leaving Harry momentarily disoriented before the familiarity of the place where he stood took his breath away.

A young teenage Harry sat on his bed talking on his phone.

“You know I can’t Lou. I’ve got that essay tonight. I can’t come.”

“I know it’s not due for a week, but I need to get a head start. We can hang out tomorrow.”

As he argued into the phone Harry’s spare hand tangled itself tightly in the sheets at his side and his gaze kept flicking nervously to his closed bedroom door.

“Lou I just can’t – “

The brunette’s words were cut off as the wooden door swung open with a loud smack. A dark figure stood in the doorway, swaying from side to side.

“I’ve got to go Lou,” the teen spat out quickly before ending the call and scrambling off his bed and away from the doorway.

“Thought I told you to shut the fuck up brat,” the figure snarled, throwing the bottle that he held in his hand and hitting the cowering boy in the chest with the object.

The teen instantly dropped to the floor with a gasp and wrapped his arms around his body. For a moment nobody made a noise before the teen curled up on the floor lifted his tear stained face and whispered brokenly. “Sorry dad.”

\--------------------------------------------------

With a gasp Harry woke up, choking sharply on his breath as his brain registered the ache that accompanied each breath. His eyes clenched shut at the memory of smoke pouring into his lungs and the nightmarish decent to the bottom floor with an unconscious Brandy bouncing in his arms like a sack of flour. His mind snapped to what Darren was going to think, how mad he was going to be, and he began to panic as he imagined what the older man would do to him. 

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and he immediately began to twist and writhe against their grasp, panicking even more as he realized that his left arm was tied down with something. He imagined Darren’s voice taunting him with names and slurs. He couldn’t handle anymore. He just wanted it to be over.

Disjointed voices shouted around him, but his panicking mind interpreted them as nothing more than frightening gibberish.

One voice carried over the sounds that ran through his brain, and though he couldn’t understand what the voice was saying the timber and lilt of the voice called to his memories and encouraged him to let go of fear that quickened his pulse.

A drowsy feeling began to run through his limbs, working with the soothing current of the voice to calm his thrashing and he didn’t fight it. He welcomed the peace and safety that unconsciousness brought as the sounds faded to silence and his thoughts melted into sleep.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The next time that Harry woke up was much more peaceful. His eyes slid open slowly, pupils shrinking at the sudden onset of bright white light. It took a moment for his brain to wake up, and as it did so he noticed the plastic mask that was settled over his mouth and nose.

He brought his right hand up and started to pull off the uncomfortable mask. Suddenly a slim tan hand settled over his hand and held the mask in place.

“Ah ah, that’s supposed to stay on for at least another couple of hours,” a voice off to his left gently reprimanded.

Harry startled and his eyes traced up the tan hand, to the dark blue jacket covered arm, up past slim shoulders and a long neck until his eyes met a pair of warm blue eyes.

“Louis,” Harry mumbled through the mask, letting his hand fall from the mask and lie at his side in surprise. He glanced down at the rest of his body that was covered in the stark white sheets of the hospital and flinched at the dark blue sling that held his left arm.

“Long time no see Haz,” Louis replied, smiling softly at the younger man and following his gaze to the sling. “You sprained your shoulder breaking down that door, and then carrying that woman down the stairs didn’t help. Don’t worry you’ll probably only have to wear the sling for a couple of weeks.”

Harry looked back up at his childhood friend and his eyes caught on the bright silver badge that decorated Louis’ is right shoulder and the name badge that was stuck on his left shoulder that proudly declared “L. Tomlinson, Paramedic”. Behind Louis a bright yellow fire jacket was slung over the back of his chair. 

Louis noticed the questioning look on Harry’s face as the younger man stared at his uniform and in response he shrugged, “I guess we both have a lot to tell each other.”

Harry swallowed nervously, looking away and feeling his stomach swoop uncomfortably. Louis had no idea how true that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to get the next chapter up within the next couple of days, but please send me a message if you liked what I have so far and want to see more. I always work better under pressure ;)
> 
> And of course thanks for reading and hope you liked it!!


	3. Left You Alone

“All right Mr. Styles. It looks like everything’s in working order so you can head home. Is there someone you’d like us to call to give you a ride home?”

Harry stiffened at the elderly doctor’s question. His mind immediately started trying to figure out how to get the doctor’s to release him without calling someone else. He knew that if he called Darren the older man would be furious, and Harry’d pay for it later. If he could leave on his own he could walk back to the apartment, ditching the sling on the way, and Darren would never have to know about Harry’s visit to the hospital.

Maybe if he called a cab and then ditched it –

“I’ll give him a ride,” Louis’ voice came from where the brunette sat in the corner of the room. He had insisted on staying in the room to hear Harry’s prognosis and Harry hadn’t had the energy to care.

Immediately Harry’s head whipped around, pain sparking up his neck as the movement jostled his shoulder. “No!”

“I mean, no it’s fine I’ll just catch a cab,” he blustered, wincing internally at the suspicious glances being sent his way by both the doctor and Louis.

Louis widened his stance and crossed his arms across his chest in response. “And where are you going to take this cab? Your apartment is burnt to a crisp.”

“I know that,” Harry snapped. “I’ll go to a hotel.”

“And what, pay them with smiles? You don’t have any cash or credit cards on you, I already checked. I know you have a cute smile, but last time I checked that wasn’t a valid currency.”

Harry’s mouth hung open, partially out of anger at Louis’ clear violation of his privacy and partially because the paramedic was right, as much as Harry disliked it. Darren certainly wasn’t going to pay for a hotel room and the little money Harry had saved up from years ago had long been spent on trivial items.

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched as he stared at the floor stubbornly, refusing to meet Louis’ triumphant smile.

For a moment the room was silent until finally Louis’ voice broke the quiet. “Could you please give us a moment?”

Harry glanced up to catch the sympathetic glance that the doctor sent his way as he turned to walk out the door, before returning his gaze to his hands. He really wasn’t ready to have any kind of heart to heart with anybody, even if at one point Harry had known Louis better than he had known himself. Experience had taught him not to trust people’s intentions.

The right side of the bed sank down as the door clicked shut and a thin hand came into Harry’s view, settling on his thigh and squeezing it comfortingly.

“You know,” Louis began slowly, his voice softly carrying through the room. “I’ve only been a paramedic for a couple of years, but you learn pretty fast what kind of injuries tend to come from what kind of event. The bruises that I found on your chest? Those aren’t the kind of bruises you get from breaking down a door, or carrying someone. And the scars? You didn’t have those in high school.”

Harry listened to the words, nervously tracing a scar on his hand left over from where Darren had whipped his hand for failing to wash the dishes before the older man got home.

“I have a friend over at the police station who specializes in abuse – “

“No,” Harry spat out, interrupting the older man before Louis could finish. “I’m fine, I don’t need help.”

Louis just raised an eyebrow, eyes falling to the scar that Harry was tracing. “Really. Then how do you explain the bruises and scars?”

Harry smirked as he repeated the familiar excuse that he had said so many times he almost believed it himself. “I’m just clumsy.”

Louis took a deep breath, pulling his shoulders up and looked Harry solemnly in the eyes for a moment before responding. “That’s what you used to say. You and I both know that’s bullshit.”

Harry snorted, averting his eyes and clenching his fists in the rough fabric of the blanket draped over his lap. “It is. You don’t know me Louis. Not anymore. Why can’t you just leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone like I left you last time? I made that mistake one time Harry. I’m not doing it again.”

“News flash Louis. You didn’t leave me, I ran away from you!” Harry snapped, flinching at the painful memories that played through his mind like a drive in movie.

\--------------------------------------

_“Louis!” Harry cried frantically, his breath fogging in the freezing night air as he pounded on the white front door in front of him._

_Tears poured down his face and blood stained his clothes as he cried out again, desperate for the older boy to answer to answer the door._

_Finally a sleepy looking Louis opened the door, dressed in just a pair of old grey sweats and rubbing his eyes wearily as he stared out in to the dark at the trembling figure that stood on the front porch of his house._

_“Oh my god. Harry? What happened?”_

_Harry let out a sob and stared at the blue eyes that were wide in alarm. He nearly crumpled in relief as tan arms immediately reached out and pulled him into the house, half carrying him over to a couch._

_“You need a hospital. I’ll call an ambulance – or should I drive you – “_

_“No!,” Harry cried out, frantic at the thought of being taken anywhere near a doctor who would make an official report and no doubt involve the police once he saw Harry’s injuries. “No hospital. Please I can’t. Lou. Please don’t. I’m fine. Really, I just need to sit here for a moment.”_

_Louis’ look of doubt was quickly replaced by worry as he listened to Harry work himself into a frenzy. “All right. Okay. We’ll at least wait til morning. Shh love, calm down. You are safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you,” he crooned while pulling the younger boy into a gently hug and running his hand through the curls around the back of his head._

_Finally Harry was able to calm down a bit, clenching his eyes shut and focusing on breathing evenly and deeply and on the rhythmic movement of Louis’ hands._

_“Let me just get some stuff. Okay babe?” Louis asked finally asked softly, waiting for Harry’s small nod before settling the boy more comfortably on the couch and getting up himself._

_Harry couldn’t find it in himself to say another word as Louis hustled around him, too exhausted to do much more than track the brunette’s movement’s with his half-closed eyes. He watched as Louis wrapped a blanket around his shaking frame and disappeared for a moment, only to return with a stack of towels in one hand and a first aid kit in the other._

_Louis worked quickly and gently, cleaning Harry’s wounds and bandaging them to the best of his ability. He really wished his mom was home, but she had taken the girls out on a girls – only weekend and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow._

_Finally he was done, setting the first aid kit on the coffee table and perching on the edge of the couch. He looked at Harry for a moment, before reaching down and wrapping his hands around one of Harry’s large hands. “Haz,” he asked softly, “what happened?”_

_Harry’s eyes fluttered open at the question and he blinked rapidly, staring at the ceiling as tears started once again rolling down his cheek and whispering out two words. “My dad.”_

_Louis’ mouth gaped open in shock. He knew Harry’s father, had spent plenty of time around him. Not once had the older man acted in any way except for friendly. The idea that he had done this to Harry…it was shocking. Louis would have said it was impossible if he hadn’t known that Harry would never say something like that unless he was absolutely sure that what he was saying was true._

_“Why,” the word fell unbidden from Louis mouth and he winced, instantly wanted to take it back, but before he could say a word Harry let out a broken laugh._

_“I messed up at home. I’m always messing up. It’s not his fault. He’s just trying to teach me to be a better person. I try so hard, but somehow I still seem to screw things up every time.”_

_Louis’ blood boiled at the callous way that Harry dismissed the physical abuse. His mind flew through all of the times that Harry had come to school with a limp or a hurt arm or the bruises that he sometimes had on his face and wrists. How could Louis not have noticed?_

_“Harry you don’t need to be a better person. That’s a load of crap. You have to know it’s not okay for your dad to do this to you!”_

_Harry just shrugged in response, still refusing to meet Louis’ eyes. “My dad says no one will love me if I don’t learn to be better.”_

_“He’s a fucking liar,” Louis snarled in response, struggling to hold in his anger at the belief that ran through Harry’s words. The younger boy actually believed what his father was telling him._

_“He’s not. No one loves me. But that’s okay. I just have to be better.” Harry finally met Louis’ eyes, emphasizing his point with a brittle, fake smile that made Louis’ stomach roll._

_Suddenly he couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand that fact that his best friend since childhood had been being abused for God knows how long and Louis hadn’t even noticed. He had been too caught up in his shock at realizing that he maybe-sort of preferred boys over girls and, more than that, he preferred his best friend._

_Acting on impulse he leaned forward and pulled Harry into a kiss._

_For a moment Louis’ heart soared and it felt like a missing piece of his soul had finally fallen into place as Harry’s dry lips moved against his own. The younger boy tasted slightly of the salty tang of blood and tears, but beneath that was the taste of the lemon tea that he loved and the breath mints he was always popping in class, a taste that sent Louis’ heart racing at the combined sense of familiarity and excitement._

_And then suddenly Harry was jerking back violently, pushing Louis back so hard that he fell off of the couch with a thud and landed on his butt on the hard wood floor._

_Harry’s green eyes were practically rolling as the younger boy scrambled off of the couch, his injuries forgotten in lou of the fear of what his father would do if he found out that his only son had been kissed by a boy. Not only kissed by a boy, but had enjoyed it and kissed back said boy._

_“I’m sorry Lou. I can’t. Please, just don’t. Leave me alone. I shouldn’t have come,” he frantically sputtered out as he backed towards the front door before bolting out of the house and leaving a stunned Louis still sitting on the floor with his mouth hung open and a hand raised as if to pull Harry back into his embrace._

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think <3


End file.
